Six Points of the Compass
by MacBedh
Summary: MacGyver drabble suite. Written for the "six beverages" challenge at FanNation. Episode tags: The Gauntlet, To Be a Man, The Stringer. Please note: this suite is comprised of six individual drabbles. You don't have to stop after the first one.
1. Somalia: coffee

**Somalia**  
(coffee)

Three tiny cups before MacGyver; three more for the woman who only spoke Amharic, but offered hospitality anyway.

She'd roasted the beans in an improvised tin pan, pounded them into gravel with an old iron pipe, brewed them in a painted gourd. The cups were half-full of the freshly-brewed black syrup.

_If you measured coffee like booze, this stuff would be about 180 proof._

Her home was a shack, all possessions lost in the chaos that could barely be called a war. But she'd held onto her mother's coffee gourd.

_I'll quit drinking coffee next week, I guess._

* * *


	2. Afghanistan: water

**Afghanistan**  
(water)

Desert heat slamming into him, hard blows across his entire body. The blows came in waves, implacable as the surf when the sea-wind was at its fiercest. MacGyver longed impossibly for the distant sea. He was shivering from the heat as if from intense cold, but his body would not give up the sweat that would bring relief. He was so parched that his lips cracked.

Then the cool, slim hands brought the cloth to his forehead, dripping with water like the healing tears of a goddess. His fever finally broke, shattering in a crash that made him weep.

* * *


	3. Mexico: fruit juice

**Mexico**  
(fruit juice)

The resort always used those fancy glasses, no matter what you had ordered to drink. Kate was holding it in her hand, sniffing the contents with a bemused expression. "I should've guessed – this place makes the best daiquiris and margaritas in the Western hemisphere, and you're drinking fruit juice."

"It's really good," MacGyver replied. He was in too good a mood to bristle at her tone. The sun had warmed his bones and baked away all thoughts of gun-runners, coups, and tinpot dictators. "It's fresh-squeezed, right off the tree." He lowered his shades to get a better look at her, and his mood improved even more. The swimsuit was new – what there was of it. "I thought you were flying back to the States today."

Kate dropped a towel onto the warm sand beside him and sat down. "Do you wish I had?"

"I'm glad you didn't." He retrieved the glass and drank. "You thirsty?"

"Not exactly."

She took the glass from his hand, her fingers wrapping around his. Her skin was cool against his, and their stretch of beach, jungle-fenced and secluded, was a long hike away from the main resort. Her mouth tasted of pineapple.

* * *


	4. France: wine

**France**  
(wine)

"Your French is bad, and your shoes are ugly," the old farmer declared. "I do not like Americans. I hate American tourists."

"Well – "

"Damned good thing you are no tourist, _mon espion_. Drink up."

"Um – please don't take this wrong, but – you'd better drink this yourself."

"What? It is not good enough for an American?"

"I don't drink. I could drink it to be polite, but you'd've wasted some real good wine on me. If you drink it for me, you'll appreciate it properly."

A broad smile cracked across the seamed face. "I like a man who respects good wine."

* * *


	5. Kuwait: beer

**Kuwait**  
(beer)

"Mac, _no_!" Jack Dalton's eyes were popping with horror. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get good beer in Kuwait?"

"Do I look like I _care_?"

Half the beer had already gone into the improvised still, to be reduced back to water – foul-tasting, but drinkable. The other half . . .

"MacGyver . . . that's _alcohol abuse_!"

"You wanna get drunk, or do you wanna get this plane off the ground before we're caught by the nearest band of nasties?"

"Both?"

Mac's head popped out, eyes blazing above smears of black muck. "Yeah? Maybe next time you'll remember engine degreaser!"

* * *


	6. California: milk

**California**  
(milk)

The milk carton was empty again.

It was living alone all those years. He still hadn't figured out buying in quantities larger than what he could personally consume before rot set in.

MacGyver leaned against the open fridge door and eased his healing arm in its sling. The break had been a particularly bad one, but soon the cast would be off and he wouldn't have to wince every time he saw how badly Penny had misspelled his name.

And then they could hit the road. For now, he smiled at the sleeping lump on the couch.

"Milk run, Sam."

* * *


End file.
